


I Do Not Know What It Is About You That Closes And Opens

by do_not_confess



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 19:17:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/do_not_confess/pseuds/do_not_confess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt hasn’t much to be thankful for. Not this year and not any, really.</p>
<p>A short Thanksgiving fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Do Not Know What It Is About You That Closes And Opens

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic, originally posted on livejournal.

Julie hates Thanksgiving. It’s not the quiet, intimate thing that Christmas is, a time somewhat sacred in her family. No, Thanksgiving is really just another occasion in the Taylor household were football is the guest of honour.

Usually, there are some things to make it bearable. Like her aunt Shelley would come most years, or her grandparents would fly in. But this year, it’s just her parents and Gracie and the game. And a big ass turkey that her mom prepares early so her dad doesn’t miss the kick-off.

Her mom also wants her to say grace at the table this year, even though Julie is so not in the mood for it. 

“Just think of all the things we can be thankful for, Jules, honey. Don’t we have a lot of that, hm?” 

She’d said and smiled in that sickly sweet way of hers. 

Julie knows exactly what her mom wants her to say. She wants Julie to say how glad she is that she’s got the sweetest little sister in all the world. How happy she is that her dad’s back home, the family back together. How good this year’s been to them. And really, those things are mostly true. Gracie is ok for a baby (she’s almost cute now, Julie thinks) and she can’t wait until she’ll be able to gang up with her on her parents. And yes, she’s glad her dad’s back in Dillon, but that’s about the only thing that’s back to alright. 

Julie is not thankful, and she can’t bring herself to plaster a smile on her face and say all these things. Not with the lump of lead she carries around in her stomach all day and with the way it turns into a swarm of rotating bricks when she meets Matt in the hallway. Not when he won’t even look at her. 

She can’t bring herself to be thankful when really, this has been the worst year of her life. 

\--

Thanksgiving is a mess that year. Matt gets a turkey that’s much too big (sometimes he’s still buying for three people, at least on holidays, as if he could somehow jinx his father into not coming if he didn’t). But Henry Saracen doesn’t come and then there’s always too much food. 

He doesn’t know why he even bothers anymore. Why they don’t just get some ribs from a takeout and watch the game. Why he still lays the table with the good napkins and gets the plates from the back of the cupboard, the ones that aren’t nicked or chipped. 

Or maybe he does, he thinks, when he sees Grandma’s eyes light up at the sight of the slightly burned, dry bird that’s much too big for the two of them. When she gets up and out of her seat, hands twitching to find the set of carving knives with the wooden grips that used to belong to his grandpa. When she says Matthew in that proud, thick way as she hands them to him, cause he’s the man of the house now.

Matt hasn’t much to be thankful for. Not this year and not any, really. But he says grace like his grandma’s told him because it makes her glow from the inside, like a shimmering reminder of the woman she once was, of the woman she’ll always be to him. 

And he holds her hand and when she says amen, it feels a little like the real thing. 

\--

The first Thanksgiving where it’s just the two of them is unplanned, really. Their flight down to Austin gets delayed because of snow (one of the very few things Texans seem ill equipped to handle) and so they go back to Julie’s apartment. There’s no turkey, only some left over sausages and stale pop tarts but they make do. 

He only thinks once about turning the TV on to watch the game, and that’s before she kisses him, hard and fierce. 

This year, Matt decides, there’s a hell of a lot to be thankful for.


End file.
